


The Raven

by theduskysky



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Bilbo, M/M, Oblivious Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 21:23:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3396836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theduskysky/pseuds/theduskysky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo went home to the Shire because he thought it was what he <i>should</i> do, but is it what he really wants?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bag End

**Author's Note:**

> I really should be writing on Unexpected, but this idea wouldn't go away. This will be short (probably just a couple chapters) and hopefully sweet. I'm pretty sure I changed tenses somewhere in here, but shhh, we'll just ignore that.
> 
> Original work owned by Tolkien, Jackson, etc. Those dudes.

He sees the raven for the first time three days after his return to Bag End. He's standing, looking at the wreck of his garden when it lands on the fence post next to him. It watches him with its bright eyes and he knows why it's come.

"You can tell them I made it safe," he says to the raven. It turns its head, regarding him for a few moments before it flies off. He sighs and begins the task of putting his world back to rights.

He reestablishes his routines: meals, market times, reading, writing, sitting in front of the fire. All of it the same as before he left, but it's not right. Something's not right and he can't put his finger on it.

As the weeks go by, Bilbo notices that he's not satisfied. Months and months of yearning to be home and now that he's there, there is a definite lack of satisfaction. No matter what he does, nothing seems to feel right.

It's two solid months before he admits to himself that the something that he's missing is thirteen rowdy dwarves. He hadn't realized how much they filled in the little spaces, even in the quiet times, and now there is just deafening silence. There's no one to talk to. No one with a ready jest. No one to keep him company during chores. No one's steady breathing in the night to help him fall asleep.

He thinks about it when he sits in front of the fire. Almost of the dwarves had asked him to stay as kin. Unbeknownst to each other, Bofur, Dori, Balin, Kili and Fili, as representatives of their respective families, had asked him to stay as part of their family. Well, Kili and Fili had asked together and he was fairly sure that they had done so without Thorin’s knowledge.

But he had insisted on returning to the Shire. It had been his goal for so long: help the dwarves recapture their home and return to his. He had felt that it was what he should do, even if he was no longer sure if that was what he actually wanted.

Thorin, Bilbo remembered with a clench of his heart, had offered more than just kinship. Thorin had confessed that he had growing feelings for Bilbo. He had asked him to stay. Bilbo had been simultaneously elated, terrified and confounded. He’d had growing feelings for Thorin also and he was pretty sure he hadn’t hidden them all that well. But Thorin was now a king and a dwarf of renown and legend and Bilbo was just... a hobbit. He wasn’t even a particularly good one.

No, Thorin surely couldn’t have wanted him to stay. Thorin, he told himself, had just been confused. He had been coming out of the effects of the gold madness and recovering from his injuries. He'd maybe felt obligated, maybe had offered as an apology. He couldn't have really wanted Bilbo for just... Bilbo, he told himself as he banked the fire and took himself to bed.  

He's in the garden, kneeling with his hands in the soil when he sees the raven again. It's the same one as last time he's sure. It's turning its head and regarding him much the same way.

"Hello there," he says gently. "Are they all well?" he asks. The raven blinks and calls back to him.

"Would it have been too much to ask for a written message?" he asks but deep down he knows why none of them write. He left. He chose to leave. He sighs and continues turning the soil with his trowel. When he's done, the sun is going down and the raven is still waiting. He walks up to it.

"Would you like to come inside?" He feels ridiculous asking it and he's pretty sure the raven will just fly away. So it surprises him when the raven flaps up to his left shoulder. It's very large, but he doesn't care.

"I don't appreciate the claws so if you don't mind, not so tightly," he says as he begins walking down the hill to his back door. As the lane comes into view, he sees another hobbit and waves. He can tell the exact moment the fellow sees the raven because he stops in his tracks and stares, his mouth falling open.

"Just another thing," he mutters to himself. He turns his head slightly toward the raven. "Everyone will know all about you before tomorrow."

The raven squawks indifferently, his beak combing Bilbo's curls. Once in the kitchen, it settles on the back of one of the chairs. It watches him closely as he cooks. He takes the hint and offers it cuts of meat. It takes them readily from his fingers and allows Bilbo to smooth its feathers with the back of his knuckles.

"You're a lovely one. Are you Thorin's?" he asks, watching it for a response.  It caws and nods. He knows it can understand him, but it won't deign to speak to him like it does to Thorin. He wouldn’t understand its language anyway. It’s another secret language of the dwarves that he’ll never be allowed or have the opportunity to learn. He continues to feed it bits of meat and crust. It likes the sweet bits just as much as the meaty ones, he finds.

It follows him around the smail the rest of the evening, winging from room to room, always watching him. He talks out loud it to and when he retreats to his bedroom for the night, it flies in behind him.

"Very well but keep it down," he says settling down into his bed. It's very comforting having someone, something near again and he falls asleep easily. The raven wakes him at sunrise with its caw.

"I suppose you'll be leaving today then?" he asks, a little bit of sadness in his voice. The raven caws back. "Well, how about a bit of breakfast before you leave?" The raven nips at his bacon but doesn't take much.

"Don't want to fly with a heavy stomach, then?" he asks. The raven hops up to the window sill and taps the window with its beak. He opens it and the raven turns to look at him.

"Tell them... tell them I miss them," he says, wondering if the raven really will pass on his message. As he watches it fly away, he feels like the raven has taken something with it.

It comes back to him after three weeks, while he's sitting on his bench having a smoke. He's happy to see it again and allows it to claw his shoulder without any reprimand. It has a little scroll tied to its leg. His heart swells, almost painfully, with hope. He reaches for the scroll but the raven caws and pecks at his fingers.

"Not for me, is it then?" he asks crestfallen. "That's alright. You're still welcome to stay." It preens Bilbo's curls while he finishes his pipe.

"It's been lovely weather. I'm sure that makes your job much easier," he says walking back into his smail. It's getting late and he starts dinner. "You must be ferrying messages between Erebor and the Blue Mountains." The raven caws and shifts on its perch.

"Many of the dwarves must be traveling back to Erebor then?" He keeps up a steady stream of one-sided chatter while he cooks. He's had plenty of visitors but he's found he no longer relates to the hobbits of the Shire anymore. The petty gossip that once used to amuse him no longer captures his interest. What he longs to hear about is his companions, how they fare and the recovery efforts.

He’s thought about writing letters but came up with so many excuses why not to bother. His life in the Shire is boring. No one would want to hear about it. The letter would take such a long time to reach its recipients as to almost make the effort futile. Plus he would have to engage either a ranger or a trade party for its delivery. Either way, neither party would be too keen on carrying his dull, unessential correspondence. And what would he even say? He had been offered so much and he’d turned it all down.

Over the next few months, as spring turned into summer, he was visited by the raven every two to three weeks. It would stay the night and continue on its way the next. Each time it came and went, Bilbo thought about his companions more until one night, it became too much. The loneliness and the heartbreak, the realization that he had made a mistake overtook him. He sobbed, crying fat, salty tears that soaked his sleeves.

He woke up the next morning, curled and cramped in his arm chair. He went through his daily routine but any joy and contentment he had was now gone. All the days seemed grey to him now. He began to eat less, to venture out less. His clothes seemed limp and wrinkled instead of crisp and fresh.

He suffered through callers, trying to pull himself together and be a good host as his parents would expect. But those close to him noticed. His neighbors, the Gamgees did their best to try to lift his spirits, but nothing seemed to lighten Bilbo.

The raven still came and Bilbo would meet it with a wan smile. It was the only thing that brought him a vestige of joy, this reminder of those he loved most. The raven, he felt, understood his loss.  Each time it left, he gave it the same message. "Tell them I miss them."

Fall passed. The air was turning cold and the leaves had already fallen. One day, the raven came and Bilbo just knew this would be the last time he saw the raven until spring. He cried when the raven tapped the window to leave.

"Tell them... tell them..." He wiped the tears from his face. The raven waited patiently until Bilbo could speak. "Can I come home?"

 


	2. Erebor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin hears the raven's message

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait! I had a hard time catching the thread of this and today at work... it just all came to me and solidified. Woohoo! Hope you like it.

When Bilbo had announced his intentions to return to the Shire, everyone had been heartbroken. They had all hoped he would stay in the niche he had carved for himself amongst them. Slowly and surely, he had chiseled away at their bedrock until there was a snug place for himself. They had not realized how deeply he had ensconced himself in their company until the possibility that he would leave it.

To be sure, Bilbo had always spoken of returning home, but after everything they had been through together, none of them really believed he would. Especially since all of them could see him and Thorin gravitating towards each other like two objects caught in a whirlpool.

They were saddened by his refusal of Kinship. They all remembered his comfortable smail built by his father's own hands and filled with his family's memories. His roots there went deep and so they tried to be understanding.

Thorin had tried to tell Bilbo everything he meant to him. But as always, he couldn't find the right words. Or maybe it wasn't a matter of the right words. Maybe somethings could never be forgiven or forgotten like he used to believe. Could he blame Bilbo for that? So he did the only thing he could out of love. He let Bilbo go.

With pained smiles, fond wishes and whatever help they could provide, they sped Bilbo on his way home. The empty space he left behind was an ache in all of them that would not be filled.

The first time Thorin sent his raven Fergal to the Shire, it was solely for the purpose of finding out if Bilbo had made it home safely. Considering the amount of danger they had faced coming east, Thorin tortured himself with thoughts of what trouble his halfling could get into traveling back west.

When Fergal alighted on his window, he dropped what he was doing to address it.

"You saw him?"

"Pretty. Pretty halfling."

"Did he send a message?"

"I made it home."

Thorin waited but Fergal said nothing more. Did Bilbo not know that the raven could memorize long passages? Or that he could have tied a letter to its leg? It had never occurred to him to tell Bilbo those things before he left when there there were so many other words pressing in his mind.

"Was he well?"

"Pretty hair. Didn't stay. Pretty halfling made it home."

He harrumphed. "Well, if you ever need to rest, stay with the halfling. He'll feed and shelter you."

That was all Thorin was able to get out of Fergal, which irked him. The ravens of Erebor were not of the regular variety of birds. Not only did they speak four languages, Westron, Khuzdul, a secret message language known only to the line of Durin and their own private raven language, they were intelligent and could make executive decisions on their own. They were also very articulate... when they wanted to be.

For whatever reason, Fergal had decided not to provide Thorin with any other details. He told himself that from "pretty hair, pretty halfling" that he could infer that Bilbo was in good health.

Thorin accepted that answer for all of two days. He sent his next missive to Dis, who was still at Ered Luin, immediately asking Fergal to stop again on his return journey. Over the following months, every time Fergal returned, he would deliver the same message from Bilbo: “tell them I miss them.” He was growing increasingly frustrated with that message. It didn’t tell him anything about Bilbo’s wellbeing. Was he well? Was he happy? Did his fear about no longer being a considered a respectable hobbit come to pass? Had he returned to his life as it was before they had invaded his home? But the confounded raven kept its own counsel.

When Fergal alighted on his desk from what would probably be his last flight over winter (Thorin didn’t like sending the ravens out in winter unless it was absolutely necessary), he waited, quite impatiently for the raven to finish ruffling its feathers.

"Can I come home?"

Thorin sat frozen. This wasn't the same message. This was new. This was different. And the raven hadn't just repeated Bilbo's message. He had wailed it.

No, no, no! thought Thorin with increasing alarm. This was wrong. This is not how it was supposed to be. Bilbo was meant to be happy. This... this was a disaster. This was a cry of despair and misery. This was an ice pick straight to his heart.

"Fergal, tell me true? Is he well? What has happened?" Thorin asked urgently.

"He is a shadow. He fades," replied the raven, his dark eyes fixed on Thorin.

"Why did you not tell me this before?" Thorin demanded angrily.

Fergal preened his feathers placidly for a moment. "He was not ready."

Thorin gripped his hair in frustration. Blasted ravens!

"Fili! Kili!" he bellowed jumping to his feet. He flung open his door and began barreling down the hallway, calling for his nephews.

Doors opened in the hallway. Fili and Kili cried out behind him "What's wrong?" "What's happened?" He could hear the stomp of their feet as they chased after him. In front of him, Balin and Dwalin emerged into the hallway. They tried to stop him, to block his way but he was determined.

"No! Don't stop me!" he yelled trying to push past them. Afraid Thorin was having a fit of some sort and that he might hurt himself, they reached out. Dwalin managed to wrap his arms around Thorin from behind but was pulled a ways before Fili and Kili latched onto his legs and dragged him to a stop. They all lay in a pile on the floor breathing heavily, Thorin at the bottom of the heap, face down, trying to pull himself out from underneath everyone.

"Don't stop me, please, you can't stop me," he pleaded.

"Uncle, what's wrong?" Fili cried. "What's happened?"

"Is he hurt?" asked Kili

"Jes quit yer strugglin' an tell us what's happened!" demanded Dwalin.

"Bilbo," Thorin croaked, as he sagged under everyone’s weight. "I have to get to Bilbo."

"What's brought this on?" asked Balin calmly from the sideline.

"Fergal," Thorin said as the bird fluttered down to the floor in front of them all. He cocked his head to the side and then in the same wailing voice repeated Bilbo's message.

"Can I come home?"

The dwarves all cried out at the message.  "Gods!" "By Mahal!"

"Something's happened to Bilbo. Fergal says he fades. I don't understand. Why would he fade? He went home. He wanted to go home," said Thorin, distraught.

"By the stubbornness of dwarves and hobbits!" Balin cursed.

"Explain it to me," Thorin demanded.

Balin sighed. "Let's all get up and calmed and we'll work this out."

When they were all seated with a stiff drink, Thorin demanded the explanation.

“Bilbo once told me the story of his parents. They were an unlikely pair, but deeply in love. When his father fell ill and passed away one winter, his mother swiftly followed. He said one could not live without the other. I think that’s what’s happening to Bilbo,” Balin said. “We could all see that he loved you.”

“But he left,” Thorin said in a defeated tone. “He wanted to go home.”

“Did ye ever even tell him how ye felt?” Dwalin asked roughly.

Thorin made a choked sound.

“I thought as much,” said Balin. “Neither of you could say the words so he thought he had no reason to stay.”

There was silence for a couple of minutes before Thorin spoke. “I’m leaving tomorrow. Fili will rule in my place while I’m gone. I’ll take a few dwarves with me but I want to travel light and fast.”

“You can’t,” said Balin, setting his tumbler down.

“I can and I will,” Thorin growled.

“No, you can’t. I’m sorry, lad, but you’ll have to stay here. Hear me out,” Balin said as Thorin made to stand. After a moment of staring at each other, Thorin sat back. “You’ve just reclaimed this mountain and we need you here. Your reign is not yet on a solid foundation. There are many who question whether or not Dain wouldn’t be a better choice for king.”

“Dain would never attempt to take my crown from me,” growled Thorin.

“Dain, no, but the same cannot be said for his generals. A lot of Iron Hills blood was spilled in the battle and they feel entitled to a stake here. Fili is young and inexperienced, no offense laddie,” he said to Fili who nodded in acknowledgement. “We need an experienced hand to keep us from being run over by their insistent demands. You need to be here to defend you claim.”

“What about Amad?” suggested Kili. “She’s closer to Bilbo. She could bring him here.”

Thorin shook his head. “She has the same problem. She has to stay and organize the return of Ereborian dwarves or risk the Blue Mountains falling into chaos or worse. She’ll not be departing until spring. And Bilbo does not know her. We don’t know if he would come with her.”

“I will go,” said Fili gravely. “If you cannot, I will go in your stead. He is family to us. I would bring him back, for his sake and for ours.”

Thorin reached out and pulled Fili closer until their foreheads met. “Take Kili with you,” he said as he sat back after a few moments. “You’re better together.” Fili and Kili gave each other a smile. “Take Bofur. He and Bilbo were fast friends. And Bifur and Nori. Nori knows safe paths.”

“It’ll take a day to get supplies together,” Dwalin said.

“Very well. Leave the morning after. Ride fast but be safe. Winter will soon close in. It will be dangerous.”

When everyone dispersed to begin preparations, Thorin took a moment to breathe deeply. All he could think of was Bilbo. It was going to take months to reach him. Would he be... if he wasn't fine now what would he be like when they reached him? How would he survive the interminable months until Bilbo arrived? Or worse, how would he survive if Bilbo didn’t?


	3. Hobbiton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are explained...

Traveling through the winter was less traveling and more a series of starts and stops. There had been several layovers but the small group of dwarves had pushed on when they could. They were not carved from stone for nothing. They were tough and well able to stand the rough conditions. But that’s not to say they weren’t happy to cross into the Shire on the 19th day of Rethe. Not that they knew the date, just that that it was early spring. It was another day before they were stabling their ponies in Hobbiton and tracking down muddy paths towards Bag End.

It was a bit early for tea time but they knew Bilbo wouldn’t mind and they were anxious to see him. There had been an tension underlying the whole trip, urging them on. When Fili knocked on Bilbo’s door, they all held their breath, but there was no answer. Fili knocked again, and again. The fourth knock was less knocking and more pounding. Kili joined in. Bifur was already wading through the shrubbery to peer into the windows.

 _The house is dark_ , he commented. They all gave each other unsure glances and went back to pounding on the door. They were seriously considering busting it down when a rotund hobbit jogged up the lane, huffing and puffing.

“Excuse me, excuse me.” They all stopped and turned to the hobbit male. “Would you be Mister Bilbo’s dwarves?”

“Fili…”

“And Kili, at your service,” they bowed, introducing themselves.

“Bofur, and that’s Bifur,” Bofur said pointing at his cousin. “And Nori’s.... around here somewhere,” he said looking around. Nori had already made himself scarce.

“Aye, I recognize your names from his stories. Hamfast Gamgee. I’m Mister Bilbo’s friend and gardener.” He reached into his pocket and drew out a key. The dwarves stood aside as he opened the door. “Come in, come in. He’s probably asleep or out back.”

They followed him into the smail. It was dark and cool inside, not like how they had remembered it from the night of their rowdy party when they were there last. They laid down their packs and pulled off their muddy boots, mindful of what Bilbo would say.

“I had to start locking it to keep that bothersome Lobelia out. Why don’t you help yourselves to whatever’s in the kitchen and I’ll go check on Mister Bilbo?” They watched him with misgiving as he puttered down the hallway to the bedrooms.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Kili said looking around.

“No, but we knew that coming here. Come on. I expect he’ll explain everything to us,” Fili said leading the way to the kitchen. They started a fire in the kitchen hearth and began heating the kettle. They looked into the pantry but there wasn’t much there. It certainly was not the well stocked pantry that they had once raided. They suddenly didn’t feel like raiding it anymore.

Hamfast found them all sitting at the table in silence. “He’s sleeping. Probably won’t wake up til dark. He mostly keeps to nighttime hours now. Less people about then, no visitors, no one to see him outside.” He readied the tea and brought it to the table. “I hope you’ve come to take him Home.”

None of them missed how the last word was emphasized. “He wanted to come home. This is his home. I don’t understand,” said Fili.

Hamfast shook his head. “Home is where the heart is. This used to be his Home. After his parents died, this place was all he had left to remember them by. It became his Home. But then he went adventuring and found a new one. He came back to Bag End, but he left his Home behind, somewhere out there,” he said gesturing to the window.

“So it’s a place?” asked Kili.

“For many of us, it’s our smails because that’s where our family is. But it can also be a person. It’s whatever your heart clings to. And hobbits cannot be far from their Home for very long. That’s why we never go adventuring, too risky. The only one who ever dared was Bilbo’s own mother, and then she went and found her Home in Bungo Baggins. Didn’t realize it until she was all the way to Rivendell and became very ill. Luckily that king of the elves there is a great healer. He patched her up some and sent her back. She married Bungo right away and never left Home again.”

The dwarves were all silent as they digested what they’d heard.

“And what’s Bilbo’s Home now?” asked Bofur.

“I don’t know. He won’t tell me. He doesn’t say anything anymore. But do you understand?”

“Yes. We have a similar bond between us. We call it Kinship, but we can be far apart because the fire of Kin burns bright in our hearts,” explained Fili, touching his heart. “No matter where we go, we carry it with us. We offered it to him but he wouldn’t accept.”

Hamfast nodded. “That sounds an awful lot like Home. If it’d been me, I might’ve been afraid to accept. Why make someone your Home when you’re leaving them?” It made sense to the dwarves now, why Bilbo would not accept their offers.

“Oh!,” said Kili, eyes wide with epiphany. “You said home is where your heart is. And if you give your heart away..” He looked to Hamfast who was nodding.

“Now you get it. I’ve been wondering if he didn’t do just that, same as his mother.”

“Balin said Bilbo’s mother died right after his father. Is that why?”

Hamfast nodded. “That’s why it’s usually considered better to chose a place over a person. You would mourn the loss of a loved one but you would survive because you still had a Home. Mister Bungo even built this smail for Belladonna so she could have it as her Home but she was always a headstrong girl.” Hamfast was lost in his reflections for a moment. “Sometimes, you don’t just get to choose. Was there someone… special to Bilbo?”

“There is,” said Fili. “But they never told each other how they felt.”

“That explains it. He seemed fine at first when he came back. But he would get sad. It only got worse over winter. He stopped answering the door, wouldn’t come out for anything. I had to barge in one day, found him sitting in his armchair, looking like death warmed over. I check on him every day now. I have to coax him to eat or drink anything and it’s never much. He just sleeps all the time. I can see he’s getting weaker.”

“We came to take him back but if he’s not well, is it wise to move him?”

“You’ve got to. He’s got no future here. You’ll know that when you see him.” Hamfast stood and put his dishes in the sink. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” They all followed him out and down the hill to what was presumably his smail. Behind it was a large shed. When they entered, they saw the wheels and box of a wagon still under construction.

“Been working on it for a while. I was going to try to get him to Rivendell. He passed through there on the way back, said so in his stories. I hoped maybe they knew where his Home was. It was all I could think of,” he said sadly as Bofur and Bifur walked around the wagon examining it.

“These are my plans over here,” he said pointing to drawings laid on a box. It showed that the wagon was meant to have a framework over it. “I was thinking that an oil cloth can be strapped over the top to protect him from the elements or pulled back to let him get some sun.” Bofur and Bifur stood over the drawings and began discussing the plans.

“This drawing here,” said Bofur pulling out one drawing, “looks like a plan for a room.”

“The thing is…” Hamfast sighed. “Bilbo’s Home is somewhere else. He’s clinging to what he’s got left here. So when you take him away from here, he’s gonna get worse before he gets better. You’ll have to surround him with familiar things from his home if he’s to make it. I figured I’d nail up his parents’ portraits on the side of the cart across from his mattress so he can see them. Put one of his rugs on the bottom. Take a few pieces of his furniture with him, things he can use to make himself a familiar space with when he gets where he needs to be.”

“Like a traveling merchant’s wagon?” asked Bofur.

“That’s the idea, a little bit of home. It’s just… I’m a gardener, not a wainwright,” Hamfast said rubbing the back of his neck, slightly pink from embarrassment.

“No problem,” said Bofur turning the drawing over. “Do you have a piece of charcoal?” When Hamfast handed him one, he immediately began a new drawing. Occasionally Bifur would make a comment. “Yeah, you’re right.” “No, we’ll keep that.” “And if we…” When he was done, he presented the new drawing to Fili.

“How long will it take you to build it?” Fili asked.

“One day to cut the wood, two to hammer it together.”

“I can take you to the lumber mill in the morning,” said Hamfast.

“If we’re going to be here for a week, we’ll need supplies. You three, go down to the market and get food and anything you think we’ll need. I’ll see if I can hunt down Nori and see what he’s up to.”

Fili followed Hamfast back up to Bag End. After unlocking the door, Hamfast handed Fili the key. “You’ll need to lock it if you leave for a while. I caught that piece of work Lobelia up in here harassing Mister Bilbo one day. He wouldn’t fight back, the poor boy.”

“May I see him now, even if he’s still asleep? It’s just we’ve come an awful long way.”

“Of course. Come on. He should be waking soon.” They padded back to the master bedroom but when they reached it, the door was ajar. The bed was mussed and empty.

“Where is he? asked Fili alarmed.

“Probably outside. Don’t worry. He won’t do anything that will harm himself.” Fili gave Hamfast a look. After what they’d been told about Bilbo not eating or speaking, it sounded like he was harming himself plenty. “He’s probably just slipped out back, likes to spend time outside.”

Fili followed Hamfast out the back door and around to the hill that made up Bag End. At the gate stood Nori. He held out his hand to stop them. He didn’t say anything or turn to them. He kept his eyes forward on what he was watching. When Fili looked, he could see why there weren’t words. Further up the hill stood Bilbo. He was dressed in a white nightshirt that hung to knees. His hair was limp and unkempt, falling to his shoulders. Bilbo himself was facing away from them but Fili could see that he had dropped a good deal of weight since they’d seen him last. They stood silent for several minutes just watching Bilbo when it dawned on Fili that Bilbo was looking out over the horizon to the east.

“How long has he been out here?” he asked Nori.

“Since you left. Just been standing there the whole time.”

“He’ll stay out here til the sun goes down,” said Hamfast. “He does it all the time. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for something.”

“Makes sense,” said Nori.

“What does?” asked Fili.

“Ravens roost at night.”

“You think…?”

“Aye. He’s waiting for the return of your uncle’s raven.”


	4. Bag End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week's preparation.

When the last of the sun’s ray disappeared, Bilbo’s shoulders slumped. Slowly he turned and with his head down, walked down the hill towards the gate. They expected a surprised reaction but when he stopped in front of them, he just looked at them in the shadowy twilight, smiling sadly. When he didn’t say anything, Fili took a step forward.

“Bilbo, we’re here. Me and Nori, Kili, Bofur and Bifur.”

Bilbo looked confused for a moment before leaning to the side to look around Fili.

“Not everyone could come this time,” he said. Bilbo took the last step toward him. His hands floated over Fili’s chest without touching him.

“I don’t think he really believes we’re here,” Nori ventured.

Fili reached out slowly and touched Bilbo’s arm. “We’re really here, Bilbo. It’s us. We’ve come to take you home.” Bilbo looked up at Fili with teary eyes. “We’re gonna take you home… with us.

At that, Bilbo put his hands on Fili and pushed a little. When he felt Fili’s solidity, his hands gripped his tunic and he leaned his head against Fili’s chest. Fili put his arms around Bilbo, pulling him closer. It was only a moment before Bilbo’s body slumped boneless against Fili.

“I was wondering if the shock would hit him,” Nori said as Fili put his arm behind Bilbo’s knees and lifted him. He carried him into the now warm kitchen and sat near the hearth, cradling Bilbo to his chest.

“Look at this,” Fili said incredulously, holding up Bilbo’s arm. “He’s just skin and bones!” Nori prepared a cup of tea and set it on the table close to Fili just in time to answer a pounding at the door. There was a ruckus as the other dwarves came in heavily laden but they quieted as they saw the still form of Bilbo in Fili’s arms.

Setting his burdens down, Kili knelt in front of Fili. “Oh, Bilbo,” he sighed as he pushed the curls off his forehead. “What’s happened to you?”

“That’s why you have to take him,” Hamfast said from the doorway. He was holding a glass canning jar filled with liquid. “The wife makes this broth for him. If I’m lucky, I can get him to drink a cup.” Bofur immediately took it and began the process of heating some on the stove. “You can lay him back in his bed, if you’d like.”

“No, it’s fine,” Fili assured him. “I’d rather not have to convince him we’re actually here a second time.” As Bofur, Bifur and Kili began preparing dinner, Hamfast sat down.

“He’s weak. I don’t think he’ll make it to Erebor if you try to return straight there. You’ll have to go to Rivendell first. That elven king helped Belladonna before he sent her home. I figure he can do the same for Mister Bilbo.”

“Leaving the Shire, it’s going to be bad in his weakened condition and like I said, he’ll get worse at first. You’ll have to dress him in his father’s clothes, wrap him in his mother’s shawls. Anything that is familiar will help. Switch out your pipe weed. Only smoke Old Toby around him. He likes that aroma better, but don’t let him smoke any. It’ll make him sick now. Make sure he gets a little sun every day.”

Fili was so concentrated on Hamfast’s words, he was startled when he felt the first tentative touch to his face. Looking down, he saw Bilbo’s eyes were open and looking up at him. He was still as Bilbo’s fingers traced his face. Bilbo had done the same thing when he and Kili had been unconscious after the battle and later when they were sleeping. They were sure that Bilbo just needed the reassurance that they were still there, then and now. Bilbo smiled and turned his head to see the others. When he saw Kili, his smiled widened and he held out his fingers. Kili knelt again and rubbed his cheek across them.

A cup of warmed broth was handed across the kitchen. “Will you drink this for us, Bilbo? We need to build your strength up so we can make the journey home,” said Fili. Bilbo looked at the cup solemnly before nodding. Fili carefully helped him drink from the cup feeling like he was holding a sick child.

“What about his possessions?” Bofur asked when they all saw Bilbo drinking. “We can’t take much with us, but it’d be a shame to leave it all behind.”

“We can send a message to mother,” Kili said. “When her caravan leaves in the spring, she can send a detour through here to pick up anything to be taken to Erebor.”

"And Bag End? What will become of it?" asked Bofur.

"It's Mister Bilbo's. It'll be up to him what's to happen to it," said Hamfast. They all turned to Bilbo who was scowling. "When he came home, his cousins were trying to sell off everything. They claimed he was dead since no one knew what had happened to him. Convinced quite a few people of it too, but that won't be the case now. We'll know where he is and until we have word otherwise, they'll be nothing they can do."

"I'll go speak to your ruler tomorrow about it myself," said Fili.

They talked more of plans and supplies. When dinner was ready, Hamfast retreated home with a promise to be by after breakfast. Bilbo sat on the bench between Fili and Kili with Fili's arm around him for support. He didn't say anything but watched them all closely, following their conversations.

After dinner, the dwarves took to the parlor where they built a fire and smoked for a while. Bilbo walked there on his own feet but he chose to remain seated between Fili and Kili. Wrapped up between their warmth, he quickly fell asleep again.

"I didn't think he would be this bad," whispered Kili.

"With that wagon, we're gonna have to take the caravan route," said Nori from the room's corner. "It will take longer to get back to Erebor."

"We'll do as Hamfast said and go to Rivendell first. If they've treated this before, they can help him," said Fili. "We'll just have to hope for the best."

When it came time to retire, Kili carried Bilbo to bed. When he laid him down, Bilbo stirred and grabbed onto Kili's tunic.

"It's alright, Bilbo. It's just bedtime," he said softly. He started to pull back but Bilbo clung to him tighter, his eyes wide. "Fee and me'll be in the next bedroom over."

Bilbo shook his head, his face showing his alarm. “We’ll be here in the morning. I promise.”

"What's the matter?" Fili asked.

"He doesn't want to let go," said Kili. He turned back to Bilbo. "Do you want us to stay here, with you tonight?" Bilbo nodded and loosened his hold on Kili’s tunic. Kili sat down on the edge of the bed. “Then that’s what we’ll do. It’ll be just like old times, yeah? Grab my pack, would you Fee?”

Kili waited with Bilbo while Fili readied for bed. By the time Kili finished with his turn and returned to the bedroom, Bilbo was already asleep, snuggled up against Fili. Kili slipped under the covers, caging Bilbo from behind. It was quiet for a while, both brothers listening to the soft sound of Bilbo’s breathing when Fili finally spoke.

“Can’t sleep either?”

“No,” sighed Kili. “I’m afraid I’m going to roll on top of him and crush him.” Fili snorted softly. “I always thought he was kinda small, but now he’s fragile, you know?”

“I don’t think he’ll break quite that easily. I just can’t believe it happened so fast. We’ve only started to see the signs in Uncle, but this…” They lay, both quietly contemplating their thoughts until they fell asleep.

When Fili awoke in the morning, as he was always the first to rise, he elbowed Kili to get him to stop snoring in his ear. After a few moments of blinking, he realized that Bilbo was no longer between them. He woke Kili before dashing down the hall, checking rooms. He screeched to a halt in the kitchen, where he saw Bilbo facing away from him, outlined in sunlight pouring in from the open window. On his arm perched a raven while Bilbo stroked its feathers.

Kili entered the kitchen, bumping into Fili in his haste. Bilbo, hearing them, turned with a startled expression, the raven squawking at his quick movements. When he saw them, Bilbo smiled and walked up to touch their faces, verifying they were still real. Then he held out the arm with the raven. A small scroll was tied to its leg.

“It might be for you,” Fili said as he untied it. Bilbo looked down sadly and shook his head.

“We were stupid not to write you,” Kili said. “I don’t even know now why we didn’t. I’m sorry, Bilbo.” Bilbo gave him a little smile before disappearing into the pantry with the raven on his shoulder. He pulled out a large beef steak and laid it on a cutting board. Kili quickly moved to take the knife from Bilbo. “Let me help you. Uncle did say Fergal liked you better. I think I know why now,” Kili joked as he cut small pieces that Bilbo fed the raven.

“Its from Uncle. He asks about our progress, if we’ve made it yet. He said if it’s necessary, he’ll send out a second party to assist us. He’s believes Amad will be ready to depart next month. Look, Bilbo!” said Fili holding out the small scroll. “There is a passage for you: tell our hobbit that we eagerly await his return and are preparing rooms for him. Make haste and send word how he fares.” Bilbo had leaned over Fili to see the words as he read them out loud. He could not read them himself as the message was written in Khuzdul but he touched the letters gingerly on the scroll.

“Fergal,” Fili began, “We need to send a message to Ered Luin. Then return here with any reply and for a message to Erebor. If you give me a few minutes to find paper…” he trailed off as Bilbo pulled Fergal closer to his body and stomped, as much as he could, out of the room. “Bilbo… Bilbo? We need him!”

Later, when they went to call Bilbo to breakfast, they found him dozing in his armchair, Fergal perched quietly on his knees. When they tried to wake Bilbo, Fergal pecked at their hands. When they finally got him to the table, they coaxed him to drinking another cup of broth.

Hamfast arrived with the fortuitous news that the Mayor and Thain were both in Hobbiton for business with the shirriff. As the dwarves prepared to leave for the lumber mill, Bilbo slipped away. When he reappeared, he was dressed with a thick envelope in his hand. He stood by Fili.

"Are you sure, Bilbo? It's a ways to walk," he said. Bilbo nodded, clutching his envelope. "I can carry you if you'd like." Bilbo shook his head. "Alright. We'll go at your pace, but tell me if you tire."

They weren’t halfway to their destination before Bilbo had slowed to a crawl. Fili stopped Bilbo and gave him a serious look. "In my arms or on my back, those are your options." Bilbo scowled and made to take a step forward. Fili gently stopped him again. "No, Bilbo. You're exhausted. I don't care if it's not proper. I'm not going to let you hurt yourself anymore." Fili held Bilbo's gaze until he relented and motioned to Fili's back.

Fili bent down on one knee while Bilbo nervously approached him. As soon as he was close enough, Fili pulled Bilbo's arms around his neck and stood. If Fili could have seen his face, he would have seen that Bilbo felt this was ridiculous. He hid his face in the crook of his elbow as Fili walked at a faster clip, teasing him and keeping up a light chatter on the way.

When they were ushered into the local shirriff’s office, Fili made sure to introduce himself with his full titles. He hoped they had some heft in the Shire. He was surprised when the Thain greeted Bilbo as ‘cousin’. Surely, he felt family should have helped Bilbo. As far as he could tell, the only one who had was Bilbo’s gardener. It was good, he told himself, that they’d come to take Bilbo back.

Once he explained that Bilbo would be returning to Erebor with them within the week, Bilbo passed over documents from his envelope. His will, his financial trust and other documents were all in order to keep Bag End in his name and upkept for as long as he was away, in perpetuity if need be.

When they stepped back out into the sunshine, their task complete, Fili turned to Bilbo with the same serious look. Bilbo only sighed and allowed himself to be pulled up onto Fili’s back again.

They found Kili in the kitchen making sandwiches. “They said I’d just get in the way,” he explained. “They won’t be back from the lumber mill for awhile yet, so I’m supposed to have this ready and meet them at Hamfast’s. They’ll eat lunch and then cut the wood today.”

Fergal sat in Bilbo’s lap while he sipped tea and fed him nuts. Fili was finishing his letter to his mother, Dis. He kept an eye on Bilbo and when he was done with his tea, he stood. “Come on. I think you should lie down.” Bilbo didn’t even protest. He allowed Fili to tuck him in as Fergal hopped around on his bed. It wasn’t but a moment before he was asleep.

It was late afternoon when Bilbo woke again. The smail was quiet. He padded into the kitchen. Fili was sitting, writing up a list. Bilbo looked around quickly before ducking out of the room. Fili listened. He couldn’t hear anything. Bilbo was so quiet that he began to worry. When he entered the hallway, he saw Bilbo going from room to room frantically searching for something.

“Bilbo, what is it? What do you need?” Bilbo padded up to him, his eyes full of tears. He motioned with his hand flapping in the air. “I don’t get it. I’m not sure what you’re asking.” Bilbo repeated the motion. “Kili or Bofur? Everyone’s still here. They’re all down at Hamfast’s working.”

Bilbo shook his head and repeated the motion. He was frustrated but he didn’t speak. “Fergal?” Fili ventured. “The raven?” Bilbo nodded emphatically. “Oh, I sent him to Ered Luin with a message after lunch.”

Bilbo looked downcast as he turned back to the kitchen. “He’ll be back before we leave. I promise,” he said trying to console Bilbo.

Over the next few days, the dwarves worked on the wagon and gathered supplies for their return journey. Bilbo seemed to rally in spirits having them close but he was still weak. They were able to cajole him into a cup of tea or broth two or three times a day but he still wasn’t up to solid foods.

Fili carried him down to see the wagon taking shape, setting him on a pile of straw so he could watch them work for a time. Bilbo also selected what furnishings would be taken with them and which were to come later but it was tiring work for him. Through it all, the dwarves kept a watchful eye on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not Bilbo/Fili/Kili nor Fili/Kili. I just think (in my head canon) that hobbits are particularly affectionate and Bilbo is no less different in that regard. Fili and Kili take advantage of that as young dwarves and Bilbo gives it freely since he sees them as very young and needing to be nurtured. Plus I think Bilbo, being so very sick, is emotionally needy.


	5. Across Eriador

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo leaves the Shire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google says it’s 458 miles from Bag End to Rivendell, divided by an average 20 miles per day at wagon speed, about 23 days.
> 
> Also, very un-beta'd. 
> 
> Also, very, very sorry about the interminable wait. Really really.

The morning of their departure came quickly and with a flurry of activity. The newly purchased ponies were hitched to the loaded wagon and left to wait at the bottom of the hill. The dwarves left Bilbo to sleep as long as possible knowing it would be some time before he had the same comfort.

When he did wake, Bilbo couldn't quite finish his morning cup of broth. He knew he was going to a better place with loved ones, a place he longed to be, but he was leaving Bag End. Maybe one day he would visit again but who knew if that would ever happen. He looked around flooded with memories of his mother and father, of growing up with love and their devotion, of the empty years, of venturing beyond it to find a new piece of himself. This had been his Home and his home for so long and he found leaving it behind was not easy.

He felt a hand settle on his shoulder and turned his face up to Fili. "It's time." Bilbo nodded and rose slowly. Walking away was difficult. He felt like he was walking through high water, like there was a drag on his body. Fili waited patiently as Bilbo made his way to the front door. His hand trembled as he closed it behind himself, feeling as if he was closing that part of his life with a bang of finality.

The Gamgees waited to bid him farewell. They hugged him tightly and wished him luck. He gave them sad smiles and found it difficult to let them go.

Turning to Fili, he motioned to himself, Fili and then Fili's pony. "You want to ride with me?" he asked. Bilbo nodded. "Alright, for a little while." He swung into the saddle. Kili lifted Bilbo up, across the saddle, cradled in Fili’s arms. With Nori leading the way and Bofur driving the wagon, they took the road out of Hobbiton.

Bilbo watched as the hobbits and smails they passed gave way to farm fields and then to grassy meadows. With each step of the pony’s hooves, a feeling of loss weighed in his heart until he was curled up against Fili’s chest, his face pressed to his tunic, quietly sobbing. It was the first sound they’d heard him make in a week and it broke their hearts.

When Fili could take no more, he called a halt. He wanted to do something to alleviate Bilbo’s suffering but knew there was nothing any of them could do. With Kili and Bofur’s help, they laid Bilbo in his bed in the wagon. “I’ll stay with him,” said Kili as he opened the wagon’s large shutters. When they began moving again, Kili lay next to Bilbo and held him as he wept. When he had exhausted himself, Bilbo drifted into sleep. He didn’t wake up when they stopped that night or when Kili later crawled into bed with him again.

Bilbo didn’t wake until midmorning. As they had expected and feared from Hamfast’s warnings, he was lethargic, his eyes dull. He refused broth and tea. He was unresponsive and listlessly stared out the window. By the evening of the second day, they were all alarmed but unsure what to do. They were three weeks from Rivendell and Bilbo was not in any condition to refuse any sustenance. When they set up camp that night, Kili warmed some broth and brought it to the wagon.

“Please Bilbo,” he started as Bilbo turned his face away. “I know you don’t want to, that you don’t feel like it, but you don’t see what we see, how far you’ve faded.” He swallowed loudly. “I’m afraid, Bilbo. I’m afraid we’re going to lose you and it’ll be our fault because we didn’t come sooner. And if we lose you…” Kili had been so focused at looking down at the cup in his hands as he spoke, that he wasn’t aware Bilbo had turned to face him until he felt Bilbo’s hand on his own. He looked up at Bilbo and could see something in his eyes for the first time in two days. “Please, Bilbo, just try. Please,” he pleaded holding out the cup.

Bilbo nodded and let Kili press the cup to his lips. He managed to slowly drink most of it before he pushed it away. Kili didn't have to ask after that. Every time he brought the cup to Bilbo, Bilbo could see the plea in his eyes so he tried. In the following days they thickened the broth and began adding small flecks of solid food.

They were only a few days out of the Shire when the raven found them. He circled their company, followed by a second raven, before landing on Fili's outstretched arm. The second raven perched on the bench next to Bofur. Once Fili removed the scroll on Fergal's leg, he flew to the window by Bilbo's bed. He hopped down onto the blankets and let Bilbo stroke his feathers.

When they stopped that night, Fili showed Bilbo the letter. Dis would collect his belongings that he had designated for transport. Fili was sitting in Bilbo's armchair, which had been nailed to the floor of the wagon, composing his letter to Erebor when Bilbo motioned at the second bird perched next to Fergal on the window sill.

"That's Hrok. He's taking over as messenger." Bilbo pointed to Fergal who hopped down onto Bilbo’s lap. "Oh, he's decided he wants to stay with you for now." Fili watched Bilbo for a moment. "You know, Fergal is Uncle's raven but really, ravens are their own creatures." Bilbo paused his stroking of the raven's feathers to listen. "They decide who they give their loyalty to and they certainly don’t allow many to touch them like Fergal allows you to."

At that, Bilbo smiled shyly and leaned forward to rub his cheek over the bird's smooth feathers. Fili watched him with a smug smile knowing Fergal had probably been pulled in by Bilbo’s funny hobbit charm the same way they all had. None of them would turn away any of Bilbo’s affections and it appeared that Fergal wouldn’t either.

"Besides," he continued, "he'll be useful. He can scout ahead for us."

Little by little, Bilbo improved, sitting up and even getting out of bed to retrieve books or objects. Sometimes one of the company might ride in the wagon with him and tell him stories. He never spoke, but he tried to communicate with his hands. Seeing his attempts, Bofur and Bifur started teaching him igleshmek, the dwarven gesture language. Once they saw how it cheered Bilbo to communicate and learn something new, they all began to teach him words and phrases. He still wouldn't speak though and they couldn't work out if he couldn't or if he wouldn't.

One evening, two weeks into their journey, Bilbo stood at the open back door of the wagon. He had not stepped out of the wagon since he had been carried into it. It had been like a sick room on wheels, the dwarves taking care of all his needs while he rested. But this evening was different. Bilbo stood, mostly steady, at the back door and looked out. He was parked very near where the others had set their camp and built the fire. Night had already fallen and there was a bustle as they cleaned up from dinner. They were not too far from a river. Bilbo could hear it burbling softly in the distance.

He was looking up at the stars when Kili noticed him. He grabbed Fili's arm and motioned to Bilbo. The camp went quiet as they all noticed him. Bilbo had not been interested in the outside world since they'd left the Shire so to see him standing looking out was something. It made them smile at each other. It was hopeful.

Fili walked up to Bilbo who was oblivious. "Did you want to come down, sit by the fire for a little while?" Bilbo nodded solemnly. It felt like a big step to him, stepping outside of what little bit of the Shire remained with him.

“Get your shawl,” Fili said, standing at the door. Bilbo grabbed the largest one that he favored. It was really more of a blanket. He wrapped it around himself before leaning down for Fili to catch him. Fili set him on his feet and followed as Bilbo slowly made his way towards the fire. He stopped, looking down at his toes, wriggling them in the grass. Then he bent and grabbed a handful of grass and soil before continuing on.

He just held it, clasped in his hand, fist held close against his chest. Fili noticed, they all did, but none of them questioned it. If Bilbo wanted to hold grass, he could hold grass, whatever he wanted. He was outside.

He sat one of the logs they had rolled close to the fire, Bofur on one side, Fili on the other. Some of the dwarves smoked. They all just quietly chatted. It wasn't very long before Bilbo was asleep slumped against Fili. His hand fell lax and the grass fell to his feet as they carried him to bed.

It was Bifur who figured it out and, of course, didn't tell anyone. He just plucked two big sunflowers as they happened to pass them and handed them through the open window to a surprised Bilbo and then rode on. Bofur, who had been sitting with Bilbo as Nori drove the wagon, watched as Bilbo held the flowers to his face. He breathed in deeply as if he was trying to breathe the sunshine off their petals. When sitting up had tired him, he lay back down, clutching the flowers.

Of course his face fell when they had wilted but the next morning, Bifur handed him another handful of wild flowers, which he clutched tightly all day. By the third day, Bofur had figured it out.

"It's things that grow, isn't it?" he asked turning to Bifur who had just handed Bilbo flowers mixed with sprigs of green.

" _Obviously_ ," Bifur grunted.

"Don't know why we didn't think of it before," Bofur murmured to himself, thinking. He had a little idea, but no means to implement it until they reached Rivendell, which they did two days later.

Fili had sent Fergal on a short flight with a message to Lord Elrond. By the time they reached the outer border of Rivendell, two mounted elves met them to lead them in. Bilbo slept as they led the wagon past the trees and gates, around a winding path to park the wagon in a garden. It was Elrond himself who came and stood at the door while Kili gently woke Bilbo. He didn't hear much of the greeting and didn't protest when he was carried down and into the halls of healing.


	6. Rivendell

Lord Elrond made the dwarves wait in the hallway, only allowing his daughter to enter. They were none too happy about it and refused to be shown to any accommodation until much later when Elrond emerged. He held the door open to show them that Bilbo was lying in a bed sleeping.

“He will be asleep for some time,” he said. Bofur was left behind to watch over Bilbo while the rest followed Elrond to the dining hall. While they dined, they explained what Hamfast had related to them. Elrond listened solemnly.

“He said the same had happened to Bilbo’s mother and that you had helped her,” Fili concluded.

“Yes. I remember Belladonna well, such an intrepid spirit,” Elrond said fondly. “Bilbo reminds me so much of her.”

“Then you can help him?” Kili asked.

“We will do what we can, but much depends on him.”

“And what is it that you’ll do to help him?” Nori asked suspiciously.

Elrond turned to look directly at Nori. It was some moments before he spoke. “Elves, barring some outward means of death, are immortal. Sometimes, those weary of this world, for whatever reasons, will choose to leave it. Once their minds are made up, there’s very little we can do to stop them.  But sometimes, we can speak to their spirit and remind them of the reasons to remain.” He paused for a moment, sipping his wine. “There are those who speculate that halflings are distantly related to elves. Whatever the reason, sometimes, we can speak to their spirits too, as with Belladonna Baggins.”

“And what are the reasons to remain?” asked Kili.

“Why, love of course, Master Dwarf.”

For the first couple of days, Bilbo remained in his room, mostly sleeping. The dwarves stayed close at hand, Fili and Kili sleeping in the same bed with Bilbo as was their habit now. They only left when Elrond effectively kicked them out. They were worried because it felt like step back instead of a step forward. Elrond assured them that Bilbo was not worsening.

Bofur and Bifur checked the wagon to fill their time, making small repairs. They also worked out a small idea Bofur had. Nori skulked about doing nobody knew what but as long as he didn’t cause a diplomatic incident, Fili left him to it.

By the fourth day, the elves were carrying Bilbo out into the garden. The dwarves were allowed to follow at a distance as they were very adamant about keeping Bilbo in sight but they were not allowed within hearing distance so as not to disturb these sessions.

“It’s creepy,” Kili remarked one day as he, Fili and Nori watched as Bilbo lay on a small chaise in one of the gardens. Elrond’s daughter Arwen was gracefully sitting on the ground to his side. Bilbo’s attention wandered from the sky to the flowers to birds chirping in the trees.

“They don’t speak. What are they doing? It doesn’t make any sense.” Nori said.

“I don’t know, but I passed them in the hall yesterday when she took Bilbo to the library. They were silent as ever but… something… It was like I couldn’t see what was really going on,” said Fili sounding unsure.

“Creepy,” confirmed Kili.

Bilbo improved slowly under Elrond’s care but he did improve. As the days past, he could be seen walking some around Rivendell. He had to stop and rest often, but he was moving around on his own feet. His smiles had also made a shy reappearance. Often he would smile while in the gardens or at some joke the dwarves had made at dinner.

They were cheered the day Bilbo, after napping some time in the sun, walked to a row of flowers. He carefully got down on his knees and buried his hands in the soil bed. The elven gardens were very well tended so there wasn’t anything for him to do except to pat some of the soil back into place. When the strain of hunching over became too much, he lay back in the grass, giving Arwen a little scowl when she said something followed by her tinkling laughter.

The dwarves counted the days. They wanted to be off, en route back to Erebor but waiting until Bilbo was well enough to travel was more important.

On the 18th day, Bilbo disappeared. He had been alone in the library while the dwarves were discussing supplies. The librarian, in whose care he had been left, had not seen Bilbo leave. All of Rivendell was in an uproar, doors were opened and closed, elves hurried down pathways, the dwarves yelling his name, as everyone searched for Bilbo.

Fili and Kili were walking together checking the outer buildings when Kili noticed Fergal circling above the highest point of the Last Homley House, the lookout tower. He nudged Fili and took off towards it. As they passed Arwen, she realized where they were headed and yelled out to nearby elves to inform Elrond. When Kili and Fili skidded into the building, they came to a halt unsure which staircase to take. Arwen passed them, calling for them to follow her.

They raced up flights to the spiral staircase of the tower. Awen’s long legs got her to the top first but the dwarves were not far behind. There on the small lookout balcony, they found Bilbo leaning too far out between the railings for comfort.

“Bilbo, please,” they heard Awen plead as she reached out towards him. He shook his head and leaned further out to avoid her hand.

“Don’t!” cried Fili. “He’s fine. See, he is looking to the east.” They looked and sure enough, Bilbo was pointing out to the horizon where the light was just beginning to fade. They watched as Bilbo attempted to gesture something one handed at them.

“It’s because we’re in this valley. We’re not high enough to see beyond it’s walls,” Fili explained calmly to him. They watched as Bilbo turned back slowly to the eastern horizon, his face a picture of sadness. Without looking back, he half signed another message.

“I expect him back from Erebor soon and I’m sure he’ll have a mesage from Uncle. Please, Bilbo. The sun is already setting,” Fili urged gently. Bilbo ignored him and they all waited anxiously until the last light had faded and Bilbo forlornly turned back to them. Bilbo started down the stairs himself but after a few, grew too tired to continue. Arwen offered to carry him and the dwarves conceded since the stairs were cut for the elves’ height. Safer was always better when it concerned Bilbo. Arwen in turn moved more slowly, keeping to the dwarves’ pace.

Bilbo retired early from dinner, Bifur accompanying him back to his room. Elrond had asked Fili and Kili to stay.

“I believe it is time for you to continue your journey,” he said. “If I am not mistaken, you have already gathered adequate supplies.”

“We will be ready to go in the morning,” Fili confirmed.

“But will Bilbo be all right?” Kili asked.

“We’ve done what we can for him. Now it is up to him, although I will make sure my steward provides you plenty of the medicinal powder we have been giving him. Just a small measure, mixed in with his food at each meal will help his body grow stronger. It is tasteless so it will not bother him. We will also send a guide with you to show you a safe route with your wagon.”

“We are indebted to you for your assistance,” Fili said formally.

Elrond waved it off. “There is no need. Bilbo is Elf Friend. Indeed, he is also Elf Friend to the elves of the Greenwood. You might take advantage of their hospitality when you pass through it.”

The weather the next morning was fair. Elrond declared it an auspicious day to resume their journey. Bilbo hugged Elrond, Arwen and several of the elves goodbye before he gestured to Fili that he wished to ride with him again. When Bofur pulled the wagon up beside them, Bilbo clapped in delight at the window boxes full of flowers and plants that had been added to it.

“Oh just a wee idee we had. Thought you might like it,” Bofur said with a wide smile.

Elrond’s loan of a guide turned out to be a vanguard of three. With their help, the little caravan made good time down an easy path through the low lying hills. They didn’t travel so high as they had their last journey. There was one mountain pass they had to traverse but it was wide enough for the wagon and two ponies to ride abreast, but still being the narrowest part of their journey, it was the place where they were attacked by a rag-tag group of goblins.

There was no way to outrun them with Bilbo in the wagon so they stopped to stand their ground. Kili yelled for Bilbo to bar the door and shutters of the wagon as he climbed atop it with his bow. The dwarves dismounted. Fighting on pony back was not their strength. The goblins came down on both sides of the path, half from the west, half from the east. Bilbo was unsure of their numbers, but he knew he was a liability so he did as Kili ordered, shutting himself in the wagon. He crawled onto his bed to await the outcome.

Being in battle had been fearsome indeed, but he felt being trapped in the wagon while the battle raged around him without being able to see it was worse. He could hear steel striking steel and the thunk of arrows hitting the wood of the wagon. He strained, listening for the sounds of his companions. He heard their grunts of exertion and their dwarven battle cries, but he also heard the war cries and the screeching of the goblins. It was not as frightful as orc cries, but Bilbo was still terrified for his friends.

He was unable to tell how long the small battle actually lasted but he could tell when it reached it’s end. He was reaching for the bolt on the door when there was a mighty thunk against it that rattled the wagon followed by a smaller thud. Bilbo reared back, falling on his bum. He was unable to move for the shock until he heard Kili calling him.

“Bilbo, are you alright? It’s safe to open the door now.” Bilbo gingerly opened the door to find an axe embedded in it. He caught a glimpse of the dwarves and elves dragging bodies off of the path before he turned wide-eyed back to Kili who was standing in front of him.

“Are you alright?” he asked again, his brow furrowed with worry. Bilbo nodded slowly, watching as Bifur walked up, saying something to Kili as he gripped and pulled the axe from the door. He tossed it aside as they began wiping down their weapons. “Sorry about that. We thought that one was taken care of but it was only playing dead.”

Bilbo nodded in understanding then realized that there was a streak of blood across Kili’s cheek. Panicked, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and frantically began wiping it away. He didn’t hear Kili at first until he gently took ahold of Bilbo’s hand. “It’s not mine. It’s not mine, I promise,” he was saying. “We’re not hurt, only scratches and bruises.” Bilbo leaned out of the door and watched the dwarves move about. None of them seemed to be injured. He took a deep breath, trying to still the beating of his heart.

“Why don’t you lie down? The elves are rounding up our mounts. We’ll be moving on in a few minutes.” Bilbo signed to Kili. “Later, when we stop for the night,” he answered. “Right now it’s best if we’re all on guard until we’re further away from here.”

Bilbo nodded, knowing Kili was right. He lay back in bed, alert when they began moving again. They kept on after dark, putting as much distance as they could behind them before they stopped for the night. They didn’t light a fire, eating plain road rations for dinner. When Kili joined him, he barred the shutters and doors behind him. Bilbo curled up against him, shivering with anxiety. Kili talked to him in low tones, assuring him that they were safe and nothing was going to happen to him. Though his voice was not as low, his cadence reminded Bilbo of Thorin and eventually calmed him into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You remember in LOTR when Frodo was gasping and dying from the wound from the Morgul blade and Arwen got him across the river and was telling him to hold on and he was seeing her ethereally? And when Tauriel was fixing up Kili and he saw her in 'starlight'? In my mind, that's how I see the elves speaking to Bilbo's spirit. They're not speaking physically, which is why the dwarves were weirded out, and Kili probably thinks his vision of Tauriel like that was just a fevered dream.
> 
> Also [here](http://nd06.jxs.cz/818/445/8cfdb400a6_90583633_o2.jpg) is an image of Rivendell and you can see the tower on the far left side.


End file.
